Di Immortales!
by Klbooks
Summary: When the gods quarrel about a certain incident that included the son of the sea god and a daughter of the goddess of wisdom kissing in a particular sea god's domain, things get a bit...random.


**(Disclaimed.)**

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"_Di immortales_!"

A camper being pushed into the lake is no big deal.

Two campers being pushed into the lake is no big deal.

Even if the two campers are a boy and a girl, it is _no big deal_.

It's just good natured fun, according to Poseidon, Lord of the Sea.

Except for one case: Percy Jackson being pushed in, while _ho__lding hands with a child of Athena_—

—Not to mention kissing. Which was the root of Poseidon's displeasure and outburst.

_Percy_, he fumed, _what in the Underworld do you think you're doing_?

Directing his anger toward Athena's daughter—blaming the enemy solved everything, Poseidon had long ago declared—he raised his arms, preparing to send a current, a storm, a _hurricane_—whatever he had to whip up to get that girl out of there. "I'll kick her into tomorrow."

"You will do no such thing!" a voice interrupted him. Poseidon glanced behind him and found Athena walking purposely toward him. "My daughter will stay exactly as she is, meaning unharmed."

"Have you seen what she's doing?"

"I" —Athena's semi-confusion lasted a nanosecond at most—"Of course I have!" she declared, quickly glancing at her daughter—and nearly collapsing. "What does he think he's doing?"

"Exactly, that gir—wait, did you say _he_?

"Of course, that boy—oh, he in all his naïveté—"

"My son is not naïve!" cried Poseidon indignantly.

"Of course he is," Athena replied scathingly.

"Who's naïve?" asked Zeus, as he walked in.

"Percy," responded Poseidon instinctively.

"Aha!" cried Athena in triumph, "You admit that he's naïve!"

"What—wait, I didn't mean he _was_ naïve—I just meant we were talking about him being naïve—I mean, he's _not_ naïve, we were just talking about his naïve-ness, but _he's_—_not_—_naïve_!"

The smirks on Athena's and Zeus's faces served to ignite Poseidon's anger even further. "You've admitted that he's naïve," Athena said haughtily.

"He is _not_!"

"Who is not?" asked the arriving Hades. Because of his assistance in the second war against the Titans, his presence was now welcome at Mount Olympus at times of his own leisure.

"Percy," said Poseidon quickly, before Hades could get the wrong idea. "He's not naïve!"

"Well, of course he's not," Hades replied, to Poseidon's pleasure. Poseidon opened his mouth to point this fact out to his brother and niece when Hades asked, "Who's Percy, again?"

The smile on Poseidon's face wiped cleanly off, and his mouth hung open stupidly. The smirks on Zeus's and Athena's faces became broader. Through clenched teeth, Poseidon informed Hades, "My son. The half-blood who saved Mount Olympus."

"With my daughter's assistance!" Athena added.

"And my own!" chimed in Zeus.

"Hey, so did mine! But wait," Hades amended, "my son, not daughter, because my daughter's in the Underworld…and she's dead...and in no position to do anything..."

"But Percy did the most!" Poseidon argued, his voice overriding Hades's.

"What about him?" Hades retorted. "Oh, and he isn't naïve. Idiotic, but not naïve."

"He's not idiotic! And he's definitely—not—naïve!" raged Poseidon.

"Truly, Uncle, he is."

"I won't stand for this!" Poseidon said, standing up.

"Then sit down, dude." Heads whipped around to watch Apollo and Artemis glide in on chariots.

"Wha—Why?"

"You just said 'I won't stand for this.' So, sit down," explained Apollo, looking pleased with himself. "Anyway, what won't you stand for?"

Poseidon slowly sat down, and Zeus informed Apollo and Artemis, "Apparently, he won't stand for us calling his son 'naïve' or 'idiotic'."

"Oh, Percy? What's the little tyke up to now?" Apollo inquired.

"Look," Athena told him.

Apollo, Artemis, and Hades looked, and Poseidon impatiently prodded, "So? Is he naïve?"

"Oh, I don't really care what he is," said Hades nonchalantly, "as long as he doesn't send that girl to the Underworld—"

"What do you mean by that?" Poseidon demanded.

"Oh, you know," Hades replied, "with his horrible kissing skills…"

"My son is not a horrible kisser!"

"Takes one to know one," muttered Athena, loud enough for Poseidon to hear. He rounded on her.

"I am _not_ a horrible kisser—and neither is my son!"

"—Even with Daedalus at work, the traffic's bad as ever—" Hades told no one in particular.

Artemis sighed. "All the girls decide to go for _boys_. And _I_ thought she'd be a smart one, but I suppose she's just like all the rest."

Apollo, on the other hand, was all for it. "That's it, dude! Go for it! Older women are awesome!" Artemis shot him a look, but he had just closed his eyes. Then he raised his arms, and said, in a serious tone, "It's coming. I can feel it." He paused, then opened his eyes, grinning. "Oh yeah!"

_Two demigods kiss_

_Two gods get mad and argue._

_I am way too cool._

"Eh? How 'bout it?" Apollo asked, grinning.

"Hmm," Zeus commented seriously, "you might want to do something about the two gods getting mad and arguing—I think it's more than two gods arguing. At least three or four, really."

"Yeah…," said Apollo slowly, nodding his head. "You're right!" Then he tried to think of a better haiku. "How 'bout his one?"

_Gods call Percy names_

_Poseidon gets really mad_

_Lots of gods argue_

"Much better," Zeus said gruffly.

"It's better than the last one," Artemis agreed.

"It has crude language," Athena complained. "Mad…Lots…Surely you could come up with better words from your vocabulary?"

"I think you might send me to the Underworld with that," Hades said.

"Descriptive," Poseidon noted.

"Since when have we allowed Apollo to give haiku concerts?" Dionysus asked as he entered the room. "Surely no one likes his haikus, do they?"

"What?" Apollo asked, looking like he'd just took a blow to the head. "No one likes them?"

Artemis fiddled with her silver quiver. Zeus purposely occupied himself with the nonexistent dust that had supposedly collected onto his throne. Athena took the liberty of staying quiet. "About that…," Poseidon muttered, staring at his feet. Hades whipped out his Helm of Darkness and promptly melted away.

Apollo looked at the each of the gods, all of which were not meeting his eyes.

"Oh, really!" Dionysus intervened. "Apollo, they're really annoying."

Apollo stood in shock for eighteen seconds before running off into a corner to sulk in all of his insulted pride—he hadn't quite been having one of his best days. (A band of hooligans had decided to invade one of his temples in Athens, Greece in order to escape the mortal police. The unruly gang had wrecked several of his statues, and all the insurance sorcerers simply refused to repair the damage, stating "articles damaged by mortal hooligans are not included in the insurance plan.")

"So, what are you doing here, Dionysus?" Artemis asked, trying to strike up conversation.

"Oh, that annoying Perry Johansson was bothering me again," said Dionysus airily. "I had some campers toss him into the lake."

"My son is _not_ annoying!" Poseidon argued.

"Quite frankly, Poseidon, he is."

"Who is what?" asked Demeter, as she entered.

"Percy, and he's _not_ annoying, naïve, or idiotic."

"Oh, I don't know…," Demeter said absently.

"What?" Poseidon seethed.

"You know what that boy needs?" she said, having not heard—or perhaps ignoring—Poseidon's question.

"_What_, mother?" an annoyed Persephone asked.

"Three months as a gardener. Working behind a good old spade is the best way to get manners I know," she declared, a fire dancing in her eyes.

"But _mother_-"

"Would you like some cereal?"

"Enough with the cereal," Zeus commanded, "You know very well what cereal's fate is."

"Yeah, Demete—" Ares started, as he and Aphrodite walked into the room, arms looped with one another.

"Don't you dare—!"

"—in a half century or so—"

Demeter furiously shook her head and covered her ears. "_Don't_—"

"—cereal will be banned—"

"_No!_ Stop it!" she yelled, because unfortunately-yet-fortunately, gods and goddesses have super-sensitive hearing and can still hear fairly well when their ears are covered—something which a distressed Demeter forgot.

Aphrodite ignored the screaming goddess with her hands clenched upon her ears as if her life depended on the death-grip she was issuing. Instead, she said eagerly, "Have you seen what Percy and Annabeth are doing? They are _so_ sweet!"

"Yes, I have," said Poseidon with gritted teeth. "And it's not sweet."

"Oh, of course it is," Aphrodite disagreed. "I'm thinking of sending over another girl, Rachel did her job perfectly, I knew letting that boy meet her at that Dam would turn out good…"

"Stop messing with my son's love life!" Poseidon snapped. "And what are you all doing here? Last I saw, I was _alone_ in this room!"

"Keep up with the times, old man. That was about thirty-one minutes ago." Ares had turned his attention away from the still-screaming goddess and was currently flicking a piece of dust off his armor's breastplate. "But can't you hear yourself? Your loud and annoying voice can be heard all the way from Sparta! Besides, sugar here"—he wound and arm around Aphrodite's shoulders—"was oh-so-excited to tell you the 'good news.'"

"If my voice is loud and annoying, your voice kills people," Poseidon deadpanned.

"It does," Ares smirked. Poseidon's face turned red with fury.

"Why, you—"

"Message for Poseidon!" Hermes called out, his tone bored. He proffered an envelope to Poseidon's _about-to-punch-Ares's-face_ fist. Poseidon snatched the envelope out of the messenger of the gods' hand and tore open the envelope. He snatched the letter decorated with owl stationary and read—

_Your son is definitely naïve_.

Infuriated, Poseidon waved his hand, and a sea green paper appeared, complete with a coral fountain pen. He wrote,

_I'm going to give you the silent treatment._

He gave it to Hermes, and Hermes dutifully gave it to Athena. She opened it, read it, then waved her hand. Another piece of paper with owl stationary appeared, and she gave it to Hermes.

Hermes trotted to Poseidon, and gave him the letter. Inside, it was as follows:

_[blank]_

Poseidon took this to be an acceptation to his challenge and sent Athena another sea green paper, blank, of course.

Athena opened it across the room and narrowed her eyes. Another blank piece of paper with owl stationary found its way to Poseidon.

Another blank sea green paper.

Another blank paper with owl stationary.

Another.

Another.

Finally, while Hermes was delivering the latter, he accidentally tripped and the letter fell into the hearth. Hestia appeared—or had she always been there?—grinned, and said, "Thanks!"

With nothing to do, Hermes quickly moved out of Athena and Poseidon's sights.

All the present gods were arguing when Hera entered.

"_Quiet_!" she roared, "or I'll arrange for you all to be thrown off Mount Olympus!" Silence fell—Hera had arranged for Apollo to be thrown off the peak a month ago, and although the sun god had managed to call his chariot to counter Hera's specially-designed ropes that had binded his body; the effort, he claimed, was tiring. (Because all the gods were rather lazy.)

The silence lasted for thirty-one seconds until they heard someone say, "Not again!"

Heads turned to see a giant lump of coal—pardon, the god of blacksmiths—covered in soot, as nearly always. He glared at Hera. "I _do not_ want to be thrown off Mount Olympus again."

"Hmmph," Hera sniffed, playing nonchalance. She turned to the once-bickering gods and asked, "Now, why are you fighting?"

"They think my son is naïve!" Poseidon shouted.

"Well of course he is," Hera said, as if it was a no brainer.

"Ha!" Athena said happily.

"Next!" Hera called.

Zeus cried out "Poseidon wants to know what you think about what's going on right now with his son."

Hera looked.

"Ughh. He has horrible taste. I _truly_ need to arrange for that girl to be killed," Hera said, then added to herself, _Maybe I'll send some more cows after her_...

"Hey!" Athena yelled indignantly.

"Whatever," Hera said. "Your arguments are all so petty..."

Which stroke up more mayhem, with Athena and Poseidon still mad at each other, nearly all the gods mad at Hera, gods losing things in Hestia's hearth, Hermes trying to hide from Athena and Poseidon, a forgotten Apollo sulking in his corner, Dionysus whining about "that upstart Perry Johannson," a distraught Demeter and bored Persephone quarreling about cereal, an ignored Hades whining about the underworld traffic, and who knows what else.

A typical day for the gods.

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**I finally edited it. It's still OOC in quite a few parts, but I can't fix the aforementioned parts without deleting the whole fic. It should be grammatically correct, though...**

**This is currently being beta'd by Dove's Wing, and I'll edit it when she gets the document back to me.**


End file.
